House of Cards
by Poca Stella
Summary: Can they finish what they started years ago, after all the animosity between them? Only time will tell.
1. Prologue: I'm Looking Through You

**Prologue**

_I'm looking through you__  
Where did you go?  
I thought I knew you__  
What did I know?__  
You don't look different,  
__But you have changed.  
I'm looking through you.  
You're not the same**  
The Beatles - "I'm Looking Through You"**_

They had known each other since they were toddlers. They attended private school together, explored their neighborhood together. At one point, when they became around the age that things start to kick in in their minds about the opposite sex, they stayed away from each other and told others they hated the other. How could they hate each other? It was easier to express hatred than friendship for fear of rejection when they got so close that they felt more than friendship between themselves. Eventually they grew back together, drawn by the other's brain and cunning. They never ran out of things to talk about. They were sworn to secrecy by their parents when they received their letters, informing them of their academic destination for the next seven years, informing them of the powers that they always knew brewed from within. It was the powers that actually drew them together.

Lucius Malfoy pulled Draco to the side one evening as they were about to enjoy dinner together. Lucius felt uneasy addressing his son about the Mudblood he'd been playing with since he were a young boy. Everyday that Lucius caught sight of his son traipsing about with Hermione Granger, Lucius filled with anger. He felt the magical connection growing between the two. Lucius once again filled with that same anger when his son returned late to dinner that evening, having spent the day with the Mudblood and her Muggle parents. Crentists? Who has ever heard of such a ridiculous profession.

"Father?" Draco looked up imploringly at his father. Draco noticed his brow wrinkling in anger as the seconds grew into minutes.

"Hmm?"

"You said you wanted to speak with me," he replied. He brushed a fleck of dirt off of his trousers, having caroused in the grass with Hermione for the last hour. Bursting with wizard pride, he confessed to his friend where he would be attending school for the next seven years. He became concerned when he saw her eyes well with tears.

"Hermione? What's the matter?" he asked, bending his face towards her. A cool breeze occasionally blew through the leaves in the woods where they often explored, shaded from the summer heat. That was when he jumped back in surprise as Hermione covered his mouth with hers. When he looked at her face, she was smiling brightly at him.

"What was that for?" he demanded in mock anger.

"You fool! I got in, too!" she cried out. This time, Draco was prepared. When she leapt into his arms, he caught her and they fell to the ground, snogging until Draco realized he was late for supper. He gave her a kiss on the forehead before running off to his house. When he returned home, he was yanked by his arm into the study by his father.

"Draco, you need to stop with this nonsense," Lucius growled quietly.

Draco didn't believe he heard his father correctly.

"I'm sorry. What was that?" he asked him.

"Nonsense!" he roared at Draco. "Do not act ignorant! You know what goes on in this household. You know what we stand for! We do not tolerate Mudbloods! And you can no longer carouse with this Mudblood. And-" Lucius stops in the middle of his sentence. He thought it was a shadow that grazed his son's collarbone, but then he realized that the shadows weren't playing tricks on him.

Draco's heart thudded when he realized what his father spotted. Earlier, when he crossed the foyer into the dining room, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Bits of her dirt and grass were embedded into his pale blonde hair. A flush peeked out from his cheek and his lips were swollen from Hermione's aggressive mouth tugging at his lips. Then his eyes caught something at the opening of the collar of his shirt. A faint bruise was visible on his collarbone. Draco hastily covered the bite mark with his shirt. Draco's throat became constricted as Lucius grabbed at his son's throat.

"How dare you!" he shouted, his face mere inches from his son.

"What do you want me to do? What do you expect me to do?" Draco cried out.

"Don't disgrace me!" he shouted. "You can give up the Mudblood and fulfill your destiny of becoming a Slytherin."

Color drained from his son's face. He had loosened his grip on him, but he had a feeling it was something from within him breaking, and not his windpipe. Defeated, Draco slumped his shoulders and nodded gravely.

Hermione returned home delighted, unaware of anything happening at the Malfoy mansion. Wild haired and warm, Hermione returned home to mashed potatoes and cod. Her parents badgered her about her day, but Hermione artfully dodged the questions like a professional. Her parents informed her that they would be sending her to get her books in London the following day. Hermione wondered if Draco would like to join her.

Before Hermione could even think of picking up the phone to dial his home, there was a tap at her window like the sound of a pebble hitting the glass. Tap! There it was again. Hermione pulled back her curtains and peered into the dark yard below. She pushed open the window, the light from the alley shining on Draco. A smile instantly crept to her lips.

"Can you come down a moment? I'd like to speak with you," he called out quietly.

Hermione nodded and without a word, shut the window and the curtain. She pulled on a zip-up hooded sweater over her nightgown, crept down the stairs and slipped quietly out the back door. She beamed from the porch at Draco standing under her window still.

Hermione sauntered up to him. "Well, hello." She moved her face to kiss him. He pulled back. It was only then that Hermione looked at his eyes and noticed they didn't have the warm glow to hem anymore. The light seemed to have gone out of them in the last few hours.

"Are you okay?" she asked, brushing the hair from his eyes.

"What do you care, Mudblood?" he asked her.

"What?" she recalled Draco called some people at school that he disliked greatly a Mudblood, but she never knew what it meant.

"You heard me. You're shit. I wish you had never kissed me," he replied, trying to dig deep for the most hurtful words he could find. "I think your parents think you're a freak, don't they?"

Hermione felt her lungs tighten. "N-no?"

"Don't sound so sure of yourself," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Don't you ever talk to me again, you hear? You're no good. I wish I never met you."

Hermione reached down and gripped a smooth rock in her hand. With all the might in her body, she hurled the rock at Draco's head, hitting him between the eyes. Hermione's own anger clouded her judgment as she stormed back into the house, never looking back at Draco. But one must question, if he really changed his feelings towards little Miss Granger, shouldn't he have retaliated? Only time will tell.


	2. Chapter 1 : So Much Trouble

New chapter up. I haven't written this much in years, let me tell you. This is a really fun story for me. In case you haven't noticed, I kind of like to put lyrics to go with chapters because when I write, I listen to music so whenever I write something, I like to find music that goes with it. This chapter was a little difficult to find a song. This one popped up on shuffle as I was uploading it. Please enjoy the story, reviews are fun. I'll post the next chapter soonishly.

Disclaimer: I do not claim to have come up with these characters. Clearly, they are JK Rowling's. I'm just borrowing to exercise my own creative mind.

**Chapter 1**

_you're in so much trouble  
can't hide in your covers  
it's forgetting that would beat it all  
easier when they don't ever call_**  
Matt Pond Pa - "So Much Trouble"**

Hermione felt a dull ache begin in her knee from the weight of Ron writhing on top of her. She strained her ears above his heavy breathing for any signs of life preparing to enter her flat. Hermione was afraid her Muggle room mate would catch them in their compromising position and ask too many questions. Her friend knew very little about her life before she began to take a few classes at the Muggle university to train for her career in Muggle relations at the Ministry of Magic. She did not want her friend discovering her with a boy that she would question her about endlessly.

Hermione ran her hands gently over Ron's body and felt the muscles rippling beneath his clothing. Ron and Harry both were well into Auror training. While such a field required mostly magical training, Ron and Harry both seemed to believe it also involved physical training. Hermione did not mind the change in his physique. She felt giddy with anticipation every time he came to visit her at random moments throughout the day. She knew that at some point, they would get into some sort of compromising position where Hermione would be allowed to drink in the sight of her boyfriend of four years.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked as his hand slid under her shirt and caressed her stomach.

Hermione stared intently at his face. "What?"

"Are you okay? You seem distracted," Ron replied, burying his face in her long brown waves, which finally began behaving for the first time in years.

"I just don't want Kris to walk in, like she almost did last time," she said honestly, straining to hear the door over outside traffic and Ron's breathing near her ear. Ron reached over the bed and grabbed his wand. He pointed the wand at the door and whispered a spell.

"There," he said, settling back in the bed. "Forgetting spell. If she even approaches the door, she will remember she had something outside of the apartment to do."

Hermione smiled coyly at him. "Good."

Once again, Ron worked his hand beneath her shirt and cupped her breast in one hand. Hermione moaned pleasantly. She loved the way the weight of his body felt on top of hers. It made her feel safe and warm. She felt a twinge below her waist as Ron moved his mouth to her neck and flicked his tongue over the delicate skin. A yelp escaped from her lips. Ron looked up briefly and smiled smugly at her.

He began to unbutton her blouse while tracing kisses down her torso. He unbuttoned her jeans and slid the fabric off of her hips. Ron helped her remove her blouse and threw it to the floor, the fabric fluttering in the air for a moment before collapsing in a heap on the floor. It was soon followed by her jeans. Hermione suddenly felt cold and wondered why she was always the one to be undressed first, whereas Ron usually did not like to be the first one with his clothes off.

A flash in her mind brought her back to the first time they did anything beyond kissing and holding hands. Hermione had been seventeen years old. It was hot in the summer at the Burrow and somehow, all the Weasleys were out of the house. Ron took her into his messy room and closed the door shyly. As soon as the lock clicked on the door, Ron threw himself at her, hungrily covering her mouth with his. She had never felt anything like that from him before, anything that would indicate what she knew would happen next. The act itself was sort of painful, short-lived, and awkward afterwards.

When the rest of the Weasleys returned home that evening, they all sat down to dinner. Hermione was quick to sit between Ginny and Charlie, rather than the seat next to Ron that had been reserved for her since they began dating a year ago. Hermione leaned over to Ginny to whisper in her ear.

"Can we go for a walk after dinner? I need to talk to you."

Ginny pulled away from her friend to study her face. "Sure." She smiled and resumed eating her steak and kidney pie.

The night air had been slightly cooler than in the daytime, but the humidity still was there, making her sweat profusely as they made their way away from the Burrow.

"So, what's bothering you?" Ginny asked, kicking her flip flop at a gnome that promptly ducked back into its hole to avoid Ginny's shoe.

"Who said something was bothering me?" Hermione replied, dodging the question. She pulled her long brown hair into a pony tail on top of her head and let the summer breeze graze her neck.

"You did. I could tell."

They continued on in silence towards the creek near the road which led into town. Hermione sat on the bank and removed her shoes before placing her feet in the cool water. "Ron and I…" She was unsure of how to state it, especially considering that Ginny was her best friend, but she was also Ron's little sister.

"…had sex?" Ginny finished the sentence for her.

"How did you know?" Hermione asked her.

"Well, first of all, you two were the only ones to stay behind at the Burrow while we went to meet Harry at the train station in town. Then, you did not sit next to each other at dinner. You kept shooting weird glances at each other throughout, actually," Ginny replied, taking a seat next to Hermione.

"It doesn't make you feel weird to know that, does it?" Ginny shook her head so her red ringlets fell into her face. "I think it was bad."

Ginny snorted. "How do you know it was bad? He was your first - Wait. He was your first, right?"

"Yes, but it hurt a lot. He kept accidentally pulling at my hair. And it was over before I knew it even began." Ginny was doubled over with laughter. "Please don't say anything to him. Or anyone, for that matter."

Still doubled over with laughter, Ginny held up her left hand as if to pledge her secrecy. "I don't think I'd have the heart to tell people that my brother is bad in bed."

Hermione cracked a slightly worried smile. "What do I do if he wants to try again?"

"That's your call. Do you think you can risk that it'd be bad again?" she asked, absent-mindedly pulling at the blades of grass.

Hermione chewed at her thumbnail. "I can only hope it gets better. If not, I'll have to consult Muggle magazines for answers on how to help him."

For the second time in less than ten minutes, Ginny had been doubled over with laughter.

Hermione brought her mind back to the present, where Ron had joined her in her nudity. They were tangled in each other and in her bed sheets, holding onto each other closely as though somehow, they could become closer than they already were, their hip bones colliding into each other as they succumb to their sexual appetite.

_I guess he did get better_, Hermione thought to herself, feeling the familiar sensation in her body, as though electrical currents were pulsating through her. For a moment, all her vision blurred and every sound was drowned out by her brain to concentrate on the wonderful feeling the left her shaking, wanting more.

Hermione felt Ron lose his rhythm slightly. His heart quickened its pace and so did he. Hermione could hear the low growl in his throat and see his face screwing up in concentration as he finally climaxed. Ron put his boxers back on and shuffled into her bathroom. Hermione crawled over the rumpled sheets to the foot of her bed. She opened the trunk that lay there and pulled out a large t-shirt, which she promptly pulled over her head.

Hermione pulled her blankets over her head and curled up to sleep before Ron was even out of the bathroom.

Hermione was woken suddenly by the sound of a slamming door.

"Hello?" came a voice, calling out tentatively.

"Kris?" Hermione called out.

Her roommate poked her white blonde head into her room. "Yeeeees?"

"I don't know. You're the one slamming doors," Hermione replied, shrugging her shoulders under the blanket, aware that under her t-shirt, she was still naked.

"Rough day," she replied, plopping herself down on the end of the bed. "School sucked. Too many projects to do and no time to do them. Work sucked. I got yelled at for something I didn't even do. I say we go out and have ourselves a little drink."

Hermione tucked her hair behind her ears. "Can we eat something first? I don't think drinking on an empty stomach will help us out. It'll just make us feel worse."

"What an excellent idea!" Kris exclaimed. "Fish and chips? Quick and delicious?"

"Sure," Hermione replied. "I just need to change."

"Well, hurry up," Kris said, throwing Hermione's jeans that lay on the floor at her before leaving the room.

Hermione sighed. As she put on her jeans, she felt the familiar pang of Ron always being gone whenever she woke up. She was never sure if he napped for a moment with her before Apparating elsewhere or if he just left while she slept in the other room. Finally dressed, she pushed thoughts of disappointment out of her mind and met Kris in their living room.

"Wow, could you run a brush through your hair? I don't want to attract any ogres tonight," Kris joked.

"Haha, very funny," Hermione replied, running a self-conscious hand through her hair. "I didn't realize this was a night to get you a boy."

"Every night we go out is a night to get me a boy. Such a thing goes hand in hand with going out and being single. Why don't you know this?"

Hermione and Kris walked down their street in the cool night air, stopping for a moment outside their favorite neighborhood fish and chippery. They sat outside to consume their hot fried fish and potatoes before venturing further away from home to their favorite pub.

When they walked in, their noses were instantly filled with cigarette smoke and their ears filled with shouts of laughter and loud conversations. They spotted some fellow students from the University sitting at their usual table and joined them.

"'Mione!" slurred her friend Janet, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. "How are you? I feel like I haven't seen you in ages!"

"Janet, you saw me in class yesterday," Hermione replied, giggling.

"I'm going to get us a couple of pints," Kris said. "My treat!"

Hermione continued chatting with her friends when Kris returned with her pint. She quickly took a gulp of the frothy, dark amber liquid. "Mmm!"

Kris handed her a piece of paper. "Here."

"What's this?" Hermione asked, unfolded the paper to reveal neat and narrow handwriting that looked vaguely familiar to Hermione, but she couldn't quite put her mind to it.

"Some bloke asked me to give it to you. He bought our pints for us and asked me to give you that paper," she replied, sipping her beer while simultaneously dialing on her mobile phone.

"Aww, you have an admirer!" Janet screeched, sloppily kissing her cheek again.

"I'm under the television." That was all the note said. Hermione thought it was weird. She tilted the note to Kris. "What should I do?"

"Well, he was an attractive one, let me tell you. I'm a little jealous. He seemed harmless," she replied, looping her arm around the neck of the boy sitting next to her, who Hermione recognized from her Cultural Anthropology course.

Hermione slid off her stool and wove through the throngs of people to the television set at the end of the bar. She was peeking around the people cautiously, unsure of who the boy was she was looking for or what he even looked like.

"Hello, Granger," came a soft drawl from behind her. It sent chills up her spine, the way he spoke she hadn't heard him speak to her that way in over seven years. Hermione whipped around and came face to face with the first boy she ever loved.


	3. Chapter 2 : Troubled Minds

This took me a while to write. I apologize, but I'm still figuring out how I want this story to end up. I feel like right now, the way I'm writing Malfoy is how I would write Chuck Bass if (or when) I do a Gossip Girl fanfic. Anyhow, I just think that is how Malfoy would sound. These are not my characters, I'm just borrowing them from JK Rowling to jostle my creativity. Also, the "fix up, look sharp" comment is from a Dizzee Rascal song. The song is "Fix Up; Look Sharp."

_**Chapter 2**_

_I come back when you want me to  
Do you miss me miss misery  
Like you say you do?_

**Elliott Smith - Miss Misery**

Hermione's heart jumped to her throat at the sound of his voice. _Please, please don't let this be who I think it is_, she thought to herself. Slowly, she turned around and was greeted by the face of Draco Malfoy. To her, he was still the same as he'd always been in all the years they spent at Hogwarts as enemies, though his hair was shorter and messier. There was also something else different about him that she could not quite put her finger on, yet a smug look was still as present as ever on his face.

"Don't look so excited to see me," he said, his voice dripping in sarcasm.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come out.

"Not going to speak?" He smirked at her and sat back down at his table, littered with papers and empty beer mugs.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?" she finally mustered, staring at him in disbelief.

"What are you talking about?" he replied, crossing his arms smugly in front of his broad chest.

"Don't you act stupid, Malfoy. The Malfoy that I know wouldn't be caught dead carousing with any Mudbloods or Muggles and in case you haven't noticed, you contacted me and are co-mingling with Muggles," she replied, trying to keep her voice at an even tone.

"Oh, come on, 'Mione," he drawled, cupping her elbow in his hand to lead her to sit down at his table. The gesture sent a shock through her body and she immediately pulled away from him in an over-exaggerated maneuver. Malfoy refolded his arms. "Why so touchy?"

"What do you want?" she repeated.

"To talk," he replied, picking up a pen and twirling in between his long, thin fingers.

"No," she said. "I'm not giving you anymore of my time."

With those words, Hermione walked away and marched up to the bar. "Can I get a whiskey sour, please?" She handed the bartender money in exchange for the drink and quickly gulped it down. "May I have another, please? Thank you." With one more swig, Hermione felt the familiar burn begin in the pit of her stomach as the alcohol settled in. Her cheeks began to flush as she walked back to the table to her friends.

Kris was now sitting on the lap of the boy from Hermione's class. "So, what did he want? Good looking, right?"

"He was okay," she lied as she began to sip her beer. "I think I'm actually going to call it a night, okay?"

"What's wrong, 'Mione? Why won't you stay a little longer?" Kris asked her, half paying attention as the boy whose lap she was perched on began to nibble on her earlobe.

"I don't really feel up to it," she replied. She gulped down the rest of her beer, followed by Kris' beer, and jumped up from her seat. The quick motion and mixture of drinks in her body caused a dizzying feeling in her head.

"Whoa," she said quietly to herself, then she began to giggle. _Good_, she thought to herself. _This sort of mind-numbing stupidity is just what I need_. "I'll see you at home, Kris. Bye, everyone!"

Hermione pulled on her coat and stumbled out into the street. She slowly made her way back to the apartment, but stopped every few seconds. She could not shake the feeling that she was being followed. She gripped her wand, stashed in the inside pocket of her coat. The walk to the apartment took twice as long as it should have and when Hermione reached the stairs, she plopped her butt on the cold cement.

"Oh, God!" she groaned to herself, holding her head between her hands.

"You look kind of pathetic," came a familiar voice from above her. Hermione squinted her eyes against the street light.

"Harry!" she jumped into the arms of one of her best friends.

"I thought I'd come and see you. Ron said you were a bit funny when he saw you earlier," he replied, sitting down next to her. "Are you drunk?"

"Yes and no," she replied. She giggled. "I saw Draco Malfoy tonight."

The warm look on Harry's face suddenly darkened. "What?" he asked sharply. "Is he following you? Where were you that he was there?"

"At a pub. I was with some friends and he wanted to talk to me. I said no and stormed away. That is when I proceeded to get sloshed. Oh, I need a cigarette," she slurred. She dug around in her pocket until she found a pack. She offered one to Harry, who shook his head and stared off down the street.

"Do you think he would follow you?" he asked her quietly.

"Harry, why so paranoid?" she asked, exhaling the smoke into the air.

"He just can't be trusted," he replied. "Well, let's get you to bed, shall we?"

Hermione flicked her cigarette into the street and allowed herself to be led up the stairs. She handed Harry her keys and instructed him on how to open the tricky doors in the building.

As soon as they reached the apartment, Hermione flung herself onto the worn, over stuffed couch.

"Harry, you can sleep on my bed. I don't think I can make it there," she said, her voice muffled from being buried in the cushions.

She felt Harry's hands slide under her body and life her off of the couch. He carried her down the hall and into her bedroom. He set her gently on her bed and began to look around.

"Where do you keep your pajamas?" he asked. He opened a drawer. "Oops." Hermione giggled. She had a feeling he stumbled upon her underwear drawer.

"It's in the drawer above the one you just opened," she said, stifling giggles.

"How do you know which drawer I'm in? You have a billion of them," he replied, pulling open the next drawer.

"You said oops. I figured you found my underwear drawer with my lacey under things our dear dear friend Ronald has come to love," she said, laughing to herself. She dug into the cubby hole above her bed and extracted a tin that had once been filled with tea sachets, but now kept a pipe and the marijuana Hermione and her roommate shared with each other. While Harry sat on the floor, going through her ragged t-shirts and shorts to find pajamas for her to wear, Hermione picked at pieces of the nugget she pulled out of a baggy. She filled her bowl with the contents of the baggie and breathed in the burning drug into her lungs.

"What are you doing? And why are you saying that?" Harry asked, gaping at his friend while she held the smoke in her lungs.

"I don't know," she shrugged as she exhaled the smoke. "It was just something I felt I could say to you. I talk to Gin about these things and I feel I can talk to you. You're his best friend, Harry. Does he tell you things? Like personal, private things? About our relationship?"

Harry looked at the ground and began to fidget uncomfortably. "He's said stuff, I suppose. But I don't tell anyone else, I swear, 'Mione. Not even to Ginny."

"Well, if you spoke of them with Ginny, I think it would be okay," she replied, sliding onto the floor, sitting cross-legged in front of one of her best friends. She held out the pipe to him. Harry obliged and with the end of the lighter, packed the buds into the bowl. He flicked the fire into the bowl and inhaled deeply. "What has Ronald told you?"

"Stuff," Harry replied coyly, blowing the smoke towards the ceiling. He passed the pipe back to Hermione. "He wasn't sure what to think the first time you guys did it, I know that. He thought that you were disgusted by him or that it was bad."

"It was awful," she replied. "But I didn't hate him."

Harry just gaped at her in silence.

"Do you want me to lie? It was. We both didn't know what we were doing. It hurt like hell. I just wanted it over with. I got no pleasure from it, but I was really glad it was over fairly quickly," she stated honestly, taking another hit.

"Quickly, eh? Ron made it sound like it was for hours," he replied, laughing and taking the pipe from Hermione again.

"That's funny. No, it was not hours. He also kept pulling my hair and licking my neck. It was hot and sticky in the house as well. I didn't want to do it again, actually. It took a lot of convincing to do it again, let me tell you."

"Hermione, do we have to talk about this? I don't feel comfortable," he said, standing up and placing the pajamas on the bed. "Put those on. I'm going to make some coffee."

"Wait, Harry," Hermione said, reaching out and grabbing her friend's wrist. "Please. I want to talk more. What does he say about me? Does he complain about me? Does he love me? What does he think about our future?"

"'Mione, why can't you ask him this stuff? You should be able to talk about this." Hermione shook her head. Harry plopped himself onto the bed. "Well, he loves you a lot. He was surprised when you didn't say it back to him when he told you. He didn't feel it was enough for you to care a lot about him and that you could grow to love him over time. He really wants you to say that to him. He's afraid that you being here is going to make you want to return to a normal Muggle life without him and that you're going to fall for a Muggle and it will be over for the two of you."

"Why does he sound so sentimental?" Hermione asked, confused by the feelings of her boyfriend. "I think he and I just have different views on what love is and I don't think he has grown to love me yet just because I don't love him right now. And if I did fall for someone else, what would it matter? Something must've been wrong with our relationship for me to let myself fall for someone else, don't you think?"

"I don't know, Hermione, but I think you two do belong together, but you're too stubborn to admit you feel the same way. Now, that's all Ron and I have talked about, okay? There is nothing more. May I be excused to make some coffee now?" He stood up and walked towards the door.

Hermione just sat limply on the floor. "Sure."

Harry closed the door behind him and Hermione slowly stood up. She peeled off the clothes she had been wearing and pulled the oversized t-shirt Harry found over her head. She lay her head on her pillow and gazed out the window, which was just eye-level with her bed. Something on the street caught her eye. Hermione squinted in the darkness, but could not be certain of the shape of the figure that stood just outside her window. Perhaps Harry was right and someone had followed her home. Distracted by her talk with Harry, Hermione pushed the paranoia out of her mind, and rolled over into a stoned and drunken slumber.

_____________________________

Hermione was being shaken awake by someone abruptly as she napped in a quiet, blackened abyss.

"What?" she snapped, bolting upright in bed and glaring at the person in front of her.

"Whoa, sorry." Hermione didn't recognize the voice and focused her brain to remember where she knew the face from. "Who are you?"

"Robert. I'm the one in your Cultural Anthro course. I didn't come in here to get friendly or anything. I just got home with Kris and she's passed out in her bed. Your friend is watching television in the living room and I thought I'd give you this before I left." He held out his hand and in it he held a green envelope of heavy parchment paper.

"Thank you," she replied.

She slid her finger in a little opening. She opened the note that fell out of the envelope. As she read the note, she felt shivers up her spine.

"I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of following you to make sure you arrived okay. However, now I creepily found out where you live and I hope you'll allow me to make it up to you by taking you out for lunch. I'll be there around noon. Fix up, look sharp. -D.M."


	4. Chapter 3 : Unexpected

I do not own these characters. I just let them run around in my mind a little bit and write down what goes on. Sorry for taking so long with the update. I didn't know how to end the chapter so it may seem abrupt/weird. I apologize for that. I will think this next chapter out better. Keep reading. Please review. THANK YOU :)

**Chapter 3**

_It's like finding home  
In an old folk song  
That you've never ever heard  
Still you know every word  
And for sure you can sing along  
**Devendra Banhart - "A Sight To Behold"**_

Hermione opened her eyes the following morning. A she shifted in her sheets, she felt a piece of paper crinkle beneath her. She reached under her body and pulled out the note Robert had given her last night. Noon. Hermione glanced at the clock on the windowsill. 9 AM. She sighed as she pushed herself off of the bed and entered the bathroom to shower. As she sat under the hot stream of water, she let it cleanse her of any worries she has about meeting with Malfoy.

When she came out of her shower, she wrapped her hair and body with a towel. Hermione walked into the living room and sat on the arm rest. Harry lay asleep on the couch, face down, his glasses askew. Hermione hit his calf gently. Harry only jumped slightly. Hermione hit him harder. He turned over quickly and pointed his wand in Hermione's face.

"Hey, put that away!" she hissed at him. "You need to leave before Kris wakes up and starts asking questions."

Harry sat up, stowing his wand away in his jeans pocket. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, why?" she lied, readjusting the towel around her body.

"Oh," Harry said, looking dumbfounded. "Nevermind. I'd better just aparate, then."

With a loud bang that echoed in the apartment, Harry disappeared in front of her eyes. Hermione sat all alone in her living room, staring at the clock as the seconds turned into minutes and the minutes piled on until she realized she had been sitting for nearly half an hour.

She shuffled back into her bedroom and began to rummage through her closet for something "sharp" to wear. She found a shapeless gray shift dress Kris had given her. She pulled the dress over her head and let the fabric flow over what little curves her body had. She cinched the waist with a thin black belt. Hermione raided Kris' closet for a pair of burgundy tights and black suede knee high boots that would compliment the dress perfectly. When Hermione entered the room, her roommate was slowly getting out of bed.

"Whoa, sexy lady, where are you going?" she asked, giving an approving look.

"Lunch," Hermione replied simply. "Do you mind if I borrow these?"

Kris waved her hand. "Go right ahead. You look so pretty. Why don't you look like this more often?"

Hermione ignored the backhanded compliment of her hung-over friend and went back into her safe haven to finis preparation. Her hair dried on its own in soft brown waves that cascaded over her shoulders. She glanced at the clock. Ten to twelve. Hermione grabbed the black coat she had been wearing the previous night and headed outside to wait on the steps for Malfoy to appear.

Neighbors walked by Hermione as she sat on the cold concrete, greeting her quickly as if they were all late for something.

Hermione was checking the messages on her mobile when she realized someone was standing in front of her. She finally glanced up.

"Hello, Granger," Malfoy drawled, leaning on the low wall in front of her complex. "How nice of you to finally acknowledge my presence."

"I wouldn't take that tone if I were you," she replied, standing and adjusting her dress. "I can easily desert you at any time since it was you who felt this was necessary."

"Oh, but it is necessary," he replied smugly. He sauntered up to her and extended his arm to her. "Shall we?"

Hermione stared at him, giving what she believed to be her most withering glare. She marched past Malfoy, rejecting his arm. Malfoy followed a few paces behind her.

"How do you know this is the way we're going?" he called after her.

"Did you want to go another way?" she asked, lacking any tone of concern in her voice.

"Not anymore," he replied. "Well, since I dragged you along, what would you like to eat?"

Hermione stopped and faced him. "No, Malfoy. You said to look sharp. Obviously you had something else in mind. What is it?"

"Well, you were going the right way. I was giving you shit for being a stuck up bitch, actually," he replied.

Hermione felt her face flush. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"I hope you enjoy Italian food," he said, gesturing across the street.

The small building had a dark green awning. Hermione eyed the place suspiciously. It did not look like the type of place that a Malfoy would be caught in. Actually it was the type of place the old Draco she knew would have liked.

"Okay," she replied, and followed Malfoy across the street.

Hermione did not feel up for food. Malfoy stared at her while she perused the menu.

"I'll just have a double cappuccino and a piece of tiramisu," she told the waiter, holding the menu out for him.

"May I have the caprice salad, to start, then risotto with the chicken and a glass of chardonnay, please," Malfoy ordered, not even opening his menu.

Hermione smiled nervously as she brought her water to her lips.

"Why so nervous, Granger?" Malfoy asked smugly.

Hermione tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I'm interested in whatever hidden agenda you have."

The waiter brought over Malfoy's chardonnay. Malfoy took a swig before responding. "How old are we now? I think it's quite a bit immature of hidden agenda's, don't you think? No, I believe in being up front. No hidden agendas. Just old friends playing catch-up."

"Old friends? Malfoy, we haven't been friends for nearly a decade. What has changed?" Hermione snorted. The waiter finally brought over her cappuccino and Hermione sipped the warm, sweet foam.

"A lot, actually, has changed. Since my father decided to brand me with the Dark Mark after I refused to join their group of the last Death Eaters, I've been lying low from magic. I live in an awful little flat by myself and I attend a small university that I'm sure you're familiar with," he replied, swirling the wine in his glass.

"What?"

Malfoy held out his forearm, cuffing the sleeve of his black button-down shirt. There it was, marking his smooth, pale skin, a burn that scabbed over in the shape of the Dark Mark.

"Malfoy, you can easily heal that," Hermione whispered, running her fingers over the serpent coming out of the mouth of the skull. His skin felt hot under her cold fingers. Hermione pulled away at once when she realized how gentle and intimate the gesture was.

"I'm not trying to use magic, Hermione. I just said that. I want it there as a reminder of what I intend to not go back to," he said, sitting back in his chair.

"How can you never go back, Malfoy? That is your family, whether you like it or not," she said.

"I never said never. I said it wasn't my intention of returning. That means for the moment, I am cast out of the Malfoy family. Right now, my father is telling people his son died a horrible, grisly death rather than admitting that I did not want to join in their cause. I don't mind it, either. If I do suddenly decide to return, then he'll come up with a story making me seem like some sort of hero, I'm sure," he explained.

The waiter brought out his caprice salad and Hermione's slice of tiramisu.

"Is there anything else I can bring you right now, Mr. Malfoy?" said the waiter in a thick accent Hermione could not place.

Malfoy glanced at Hermione, who shook her head. "No, I do not believe there is anything else. Thank you, Adriano."

They both dug into their plates. There was silence for several minutes, but the scraping of forks on their plates.

Hermione took a sip of her drink and cleared her throat. "So, if you did not want to join in their cause, then why did you subject me and countless others to all the Pureblooded racial madness?"

Malfoy shrugged. "I can't really say why. Not yet, at least. I've just grown up, I suppose, and am obviously past it since I'm living within the Muggle world rather than just disowning my family and continuing on my own in the magical realm."

"But you were so adamant about it," she replied, pressing into him about the subject. "If that's the defense you would like to use-"

"It is the defense I would like to use, thank you very much," Malfoy snapped, finishing his salad and setting the plate aside. "Why would I use a defense I can't back? That's just idiotic, don't you think? I don't really want to discuss it at the moment."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Okay. Since you're being up-front with me, for the most part, why did you want to meet?"

"I figured you could help me," he replied, gesturing for the waiter to come over. Adriano approached the table. "I would like another glass of chardonnay with my risotto."

"Sure, right away, sir," he responded, taking Malfoy's empty glass and plate.

"I've exchanged all of my money into Muggle currency and I have a little bank account that keeps it for me. But the money is going to quickly diminish so I need a job. I've been having problems because I have no connections and no one wants to hire anyone without recommendations and no previous jobs at age 20. It makes me look like a free-loading slacker," he said.

Hermione chewed the last bite of her tiramisu as she pondered Malfoy's predicament. "Well, I mean, you could say that you're not from around here. I mean, you're not, really, I suppose, but just say you moved to America when you were a child and only recently came back to attend university. You held previous jobs in the States, but considering it's across the pond, you don't think the jobs would give you a recommendation all the way over here. Plus, it'd be such a hassle to mail internationally. Also, I could see if my parents need help around the practice. Maybe you could be a mail-boy in the building or something."

Hermione giggled to herself at the idea of Malfoy, with his smug and proud attitude, pushing around a mail cart, delivering other people's mail to them in an office building.

"What?"

"Nothing," Hermione responded quickly.

"Obviously it was something. You were laughing to yourself," he said.

"No, I just imagined you as a mail carrier in my parents' building," Hermione finally said.

The waiter brought out Malfoy's risotto and chardonnay. Malfoy dug in without saying a word. He washed down his entire plate of food with his second glass of chardonnay. "Did you want anything else before I pay the bill?"

Hermione shook her head. Her brown waves fell around her shoulders. Malfoy stared at her.

"Okay, well I am going to pay this," he stood from his seat and approached the waiter. He paid without looking at the bill Adriano tried to hand to him.

"Would you like to see my rat hole of an apartment?" Malfoy asked, pulling out Hermione's chair for her.

Hermione smiled weakly. "Sure."

They exited the restaurant and hailed a cab. They sat in heavy silence on the ride to Malfoy's apartment. As Hermione watched the buildings, she realized they were slowly entering a not-so-well-off part of the city. Malfoy's hands drummed nervously on his knee. The cab driver pulled up to a ramshackle building with garbage cans that overflowed and had a few of the windows boarded up. Malfoy quickly took the stairs two at a time and opened the door for Hermione. As she entered the front hall, her nose was filled with the smells of different foods coming from the apartments, mixed in with cigarettes and marijuana. Malfoy hurried down the hallway and came to a door, which led to a staircase. Hermione followed Malfoy two steps behind as they climbed to the second floor. There, Malfoy led her to the end of the long corridor and stood in front of apartment 2D with forced, exaggerated pride. He held open the door for Hermione and stood back to let her in.

Hermione walked slowly through the long hallway that led into a small living room. The kitchen was on the right just before the living room, with a window connecting to the living area. Another hallway branched off the left of the living room, which Hermione assumed was where Malfoy's room was. Malfoy hung back and leaned against the door frame.

"Well," she began slowly, eyeing up the tattered couch covered with a large blanket and the small pile of dishes in the sink, "it could be a lot worse."

"Please. This place is a palace," he replied, brushing lint off of his coat.

Hermione snorted. "Sure is." She reached in her pocket and pulled out her mobile phone. 2PM. "Well, I think I should be going home. I have to work at three o'clock."

Malfoy nodded. "Would you like me to ride with you back to your apartment or-"

"Oh, no, I believe I'll manage. Thank you, though," she said, walking past him out into the hallway where she was greeted again by the pungent smells coming from the apartments. Outside in the cold air, she breathed deeply and glanced back at the building. Hermione expected to feel great annoyance at spending time with Malfoy, yet during the solitary ride home in the cab, she felt the familiar twinge from their old friendship. Should she fear that this feeling will lead to other, more complicated emotional nostalgia?


End file.
